Flame and Snow
by AnonymousHime
Summary: Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye struggle to return to a normal life after the Ishval War. (Royai oneshot. Inspired by the song "Flame and Snow" by Jesse Daniel Smith)
Hello everyone! So I've noticed a lot of these post-Ishval angst fics tend to be Roy-centric, and while I enjoy reading those, I really wanted to write one that covered both Roy's _and_ Riza's struggles and how they work through it together. I hope you enjoy!

Flame and Snow

"Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye struggle to return to a normal life after the Ishval War. (Royai oneshot. Inspired by the song "Flame and Snow" by Jesse Daniel Smith)"

The glow of the moon was the only source of light in the dark East City apartment, illuminating the golden hair of the woman guiding a very drunken Lieutenant Colonel across the creaky wooden floorboards. The woman reached for the copper door handle and sighed as she listened to the man mumble an alcohol-induced mantra of apologies and words laced with nothing but regret. She finally got the handle to turn and she led him inside, resting him on the soft edge of the bed.

Lt. Col. Mustang could feel his body be shifted as articles of clothing, such as his shoes and gloves, were removed from his person. His head was too foggy to remember where he was or why he was there but he could vaguely picture the deep brown eyes and hear the sturdy voice of a woman. Was she here?

"'R...iza...?" He managed to slur.

"I'm here, sir." The steady voice replied and his worries seemed to start melting away. When had he started taking such comfort in that voice?

He reached his unsteady hand out until he felt the softer, colder hand of the 2nd Lieutenant within his own.

"Don' leave..."

"...I won't, sir."

As he slipped into the darkness, Mustang felt something warm and soft brush against his forehead. His thoughts weren't clear enough to be certain of what it was creating the sensation, but he had a hunch. A small smile twitched onto his lips, and then there was nothing.

Hawkeye sat against the wall of the darkened bedroom and listened to the steady snores of her superior officer. These days she found sleep harder to come by, so she used it as the perfect opportunity to think. This night's topic of thought was the state her superior officer was in.

It had been a normal night, at least the closest to "normal" she could achieve. The Lt. Col. had once again "stepped out for some air" when he saw the paperwork piled up on his desk and had been missing for the last hour. Back straight and head held high, the 2nd Lt. ha marched down the streets, trigger finger twitching, ready to give Mustang what was coming to him for ignoring his work again.

But what she saw through that bar window quickly dissolved any hope of this being a "normal" night. The raven hair splayed across the counter, the blue coat hung sloppily over the back of the stool, and the gloved hands hanging limply at the sides of their owner... Such an image took Hawkeye several moments to process, but she regained composure nonetheless and cautiously strolled inside the dark bar.

The atmosphere was quiet and solemn, the only few patrons in the bar also appeared to be military, and more interested in wallowing in their own misery than striking up any conversations. She made her way to the back corner of the bar counter, where her superior officer lay, a half empty glass of whiskey by his head.

"Sir?" She tested, steadying her voice as best she could.

No response.

She turned her attention to the tall man behind the counter who was wiping out glasses with a cloth. "Excuse me, how much has this man had to drink?"

"Enough." Was the bartender's simple reply, and Riza's trigger finger twitched again. She took a deep breath and once again focused on Mustang instead.

"Sir." She tried again. Nothing... "Roy!" She shook him this time, causing his startled, glassy eyes to shoot up in her direction. Hawkeye did her best to ignore how his gloved fingers instinctively positioned themselves, ready to snap and burn this whole place down if one wrong move was made.

"What're you doing here?" She inquired.

"Jus' thinkin'..." Mustang visibly relaxed as he recognized the voice and face of his comrade.

"That's dangerous, sir."

The slightest hint of a smile flashed on Mustang's face.

"Come on, sir. I'll take you home."

Mustang didn't protest much when the 2nd Lt. lifted his arm around her shoulder and hoisted him off his seat and out onto the dim streets. They attracted attention, of course, and the crowd that watched the two intently murmured the words Roy hoped to never hear again.

 _"Isn't that Roy Mustang, the Hero of Ishval?"_

 _"Look, it's the Hero of Ishval! I hear his Flame Alchemy is so powerful, it can kill hundreds of enemies in seconds!"_

 _"Look, daddy! Isn't that the superhero we saw in the newspapers? The Hero of Ishval!"_

Hawkeye had tried to maneuver him away from the voices as quickly as she could, but to no avail. She could see her superior officer's eyes become distant as he was surely reminded of the terrors of just a few months ago. Her trigger finger twitched. She grew frustrated, but now more so by her own actions than the insensitive murmurs of the crowd they were escaping. Why wouldn't her finger _just stop twitching?!_

Returning her consciousness to the present, she shifted her position against Mustang's bedroom wall and shifted her gaze to check on the steady rise and fall of his chest. Except it wasn't steady - his breaths were suddenly ragged and sporadic, and a thick layer of sweat was shining on his brow. How had she not noticed yet...?

She rose to her feet to attend to the Lt. Col., but as she neared the edge of his bed, his body flung upwards and a large gasp escaped his widely parted lips. Hawkeye leapt back what felt like several feet, and her hand reached for her gun holster. She froze. A wave of emotion washed over her... What was she doing? This was Mustang, this was _Roy_ , the only man she's put her full trust in since the death of her father. This wasn't an enemy. She suddenly felt nauseous but she wasn't able to wallow in self-loathing for long before the wide-eyed man before her regained his breath enough to speak.

"Riza? What're you doing here?"

It seems his dream sobered him up some.

"You were drunk, sir. I brought you home and you asked me to stay. If you'd like, I'll take my leave now-"

"No. Please, stay a little longer."

Was it her imagination, or was he trembling?

With a sympathetic nod, she strolled to the bed and clicked on the bedside lamp before seating herself intimately close to her superior officer. If the military found out about this, who knows what would happen... But the military didn't matter right now. Roy did.

"Would you like to talk about it, sir? The dream."

Roy seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"...It's funny, huh? 'Hero of Ishval'..."

"Sir?"

"What... what makes a hero, anyway?"

Hawkeye took a moment to consider the question, her hand running back and forth through the silky sheets as she did so. Maybe that's why they had so much trouble sleeping now? Their beds at home were quite different from the cots they were used to.

"A hero is someone who is admired for their courage and achievements." She finally responded.

"If I wanted that answer, I would've bought a dictionary... what do _you_ think a hero is?"

Hawkeye sighed and cautiously brushed her fingers against the side of Mustang's arm. He didn't protest.

"Well, sir... I think a hero is someone who overcomes something the average man would flee from. Someone to provide a beacon of hope to the lost and the weary, to remind them that even the tallest mountains can be climbed. Heroes are everywhere, really..."

Mustang let out a long sigh before leaning his forehead onto his comrade's blue-clothed shoulder.

"Yeah. That's why, in the end... I'm no hero. I'm a coward who just followed orders instead of morals... I wish I could tell that little boy from earlier... superheroes save people. But I only... kill people."

Hawkeye was taken aback by the sudden openness from the man, but supposed it was to be excepted. After all, he must've been keeping this in for months, and really, who else would he tell? Probably Hughes, but the two of them hadn't been able to see each other often these days...

She placed a strong hand on Mustang's shoulder.

"Like I said, heroes are all around us. Heroes are the firefighters who willingly risk their lives to save others, even though it'd be easier to just watch the house burn. Heroes are the mothers and fathers who work their fingers to the bone every day to put food in their children's mouths, even though it'd be easier to just give them away.

"And heroes... Heroes are the Roy Mustangs who, while others boast their kill count, wholeheartedly beg for forgiveness for theirs. The ones who are fighting so hard to get past the horrors burdening their minds, even though it'd be so much easier to just lift a gun to their heads and pull the trigger.

"That's what a hero is, sir."

Hawkeye felt something warm sink through her sleeve and she turned her head to see a steady flow of tears escaping her superior officer's - No, her best friend's eyes.

"It appears it's started to rain." Roy stated.

Riza looked up at the solid ceiling above her. The room couldn't be drier.

"Yes, sir. It appears it has."

Riza lifted her hand from Roy's shoulder to his forehead and she started to tenderly brush stray strands away. His hair was slightly oily, but not bad enough to complain about. She'd just need to remind him to take better care of himself and stop skipping showers. Silence weighed down on them, only broken by the occasional sniffle from Roy trying to regain composure. Riza looked down in his direction, only to see cheeks flushed a bright pink. Was it from the crying? Was he embarrassed? Was he still not completely sober? Was he coming down with something...?

But those thoughts weren't her biggest concern right now... It was the words that just escaped Roy's lips after he regained steady control of his voice.

"Why do you hide?"

Riza froze and blinked several times, attempting to process the meaning of the question.

"...What do you mean? What do I have to hide?"

"I think you know very well what I mean, Riza. You're a great actress, I'll give you that - but I know it all. I know you have the nightmares, too. I see how your trigger finger twitches when you feel threatened, and I see how that eats at you. I see how your face twists up when you see or hear certain things, but most importantly, I see how your eyes have changed. They're all subtle things, but they're there." Roy whispered these words gently, tenderly, _casually_. That fact perhaps held more impact to Riza than the words themselves. When had such a heavy topic become so casual to them?

"Riza, please tell me the real reason why. Please don't give me the 'I'm fine, worry about yourself' that you always do..."

The pleading expression that shone in those onyx eyes was enough to convince her.

"...Alright. I suppose my reason is... if you are the flame, then I am the snow. You have a goal to reach, and you need a guiding hand behind you to keep you on your path. I know how you can be... irrational at times. Your flames can get out of hand, sometimes literally. So as the snow, I must remain firm to tame the flames within."

A deep breath arose from Roy's chest.

"...I won't accept that, Riza. Because... in the end, the flame always melts the snow."

"Roy-"

"I do want your help, Riza, but I don't want you to sacrifice yourself for it. I want you to have my back, but I will also have yours. Why must we be flame and snow, why can't we be Roy and Riza? Equals who take care of each other instead of this stubborn one-sided nonsense."

A sharp intake of breath was the only sound Riza found herself capable of making.

"...Since when did _you_ lecture _me_?" A ghost of a smile flickered across Riza's features.

"Sometimes you need it, too."

Riza's smirk grew into a grin. Something about this felt nice. Perhaps being taken care of wasn't such a bad thing every now and then.

"By the way, Riza... why snow? If you were to compare me to fire, why compare yourself snow instead of something like rain?"

"Because you're always so useless in the rain."

Roy chuckled softly into Riza's shoulder and she felt his hand brushing against her own, intertwining their fingers. For the first time in a while, Riza felt truly relaxed.

Before she could even think to fight it, her heavily lidded eyes fell shut.

The morning sun trickled in from the parted curtains, and Riza groggily took note of her surroundings. She found herself laying in a silky mess of pillows and blankets, but it wasn't as cold as she would expect. She soon realized the source of the warmth as she felt the hot breath of the gently snoring nose nuzzled into the back of her neck and the sturdy, blue-clad arms wrapped around her waist. A light pink flushed over her face but she quickly found herself settling into the embrace. She glanced up at the clock above her. She would have to wake the Lt. Col. and head to the office soon... but for now, the sheets no longer felt foreign and the cold could not touch her here. For the first time since Ishval, she felt like she was home.

A few more minutes wouldn't hurt.


End file.
